


About Friendship and Pink Elephants

by SonnenFlower



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Cards Against Muggles, Care of Magical Creatures, F/M, Facebook: Hermione's Nook, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Friendship goals, Healthy Coping Mechanisms, Hermione's Nook RarePair Soulmate Fest, Origami, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rare Pairings, Some Humor, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, healing fic, soulmate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-13
Updated: 2020-02-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:28:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22694053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SonnenFlower/pseuds/SonnenFlower
Summary: It's a long road between surviving a war and everything being well and it's not an easy one. But with friends by your side nothing can surprise you, can it?A story about scars, hope and the necessity of friendship.
Relationships: Luna Lovegood/Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnigan & Dean Thomas
Comments: 24
Kudos: 20
Collections: Hermione's Nook RarePair Soulmate Fest





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AncientWolf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AncientWolf/gifts).



> I finally made it. This is my first ever published fanfic and as English is not my first language I hope you can forgive what everstrange sentence I have written. A huge thanks to my amazing Alpha AncientWolf and my equally amazing Beta KoraKunkel. As well as the artist of this stunning cover DarkAngelOfSorrowReturns. I would and could have never done it without you!
> 
> This fic is part of the Hermione's Nook RarePair Soulmate Fest and was written to the prompt: Legend says that if you fold 1000 paper (Cranes? Planes? Rabbits? Anything really) You can meet your soulmate.

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/186947346@N07/49531810572/in/dateposted-public/)

The dungeon was dark, damp and, to say it with Luna’s words, all in all very unpleasant. Dean and Luna shared their cell with two other unlucky souls – a goblin named Griphook, nobody really knew how he ended down there – something about having no wizard master, but better not to ask too many questions– and Mr Ollivander. The wandmaker was the longest incarcerated of the current inmates. He-who-has-no-nose needed to know something about a wand, and whatever Mr Ollivander had told him didn’t go over too well. Probably best for all of humankind, but certainly not for Mr Ollivander, hence his stay with them. Unfortunately, even though Mr Ollivander was still part of their little group, his answers hadn't failed the small snake man completely. Otherwise, he would most likely not be alive anymore.

Time was a strange thing down in their cellar. Luna told them once that it was a natural phenomenon caused by a worm or mule or something no one else seems able to recall. It drilled holes in the ground causing the time to flow into the ground and thickening it in all holes under the surface, which made it flow slower. Dean thought this explanation made a strange sort of sense while being obvious nonsense, but that appeared to be quite a normal occurrence for Luna’s theories – if one got used to them. 

The four comrades in suffering tried to kill their time in very different fashions, after each of them went through the inevitable _there-has-to-be-a-way-out-of-here phase_. Mr Ollivander had a stick, a quiet unremarkable piece of wood from birch, but there was no being sure with only a speckle of torchlight reaching them through the heavy wooden door. He balanced that piece from the outside world on his fingers, or on something inside the damp cubical, seemingly looking for the perfect point of equilibrium. Griphook had asked once, in a very uncharacteristic fit of communicativeness, what he was trying to do. Mr Ollivander only answered he wouldn’t understand it anyway because he didn’t carry a wand. 

Needless to say, the results weren’t pretty. Since then all four of them tried to avoid any topic concerning wands, or wizard goblin relations or any hot topic by that means. It didn’t leave much, but they weren’t at a dinner party. They didn’t have to do small talk, did they?  
Strangely, things started to get slightly better and Malfoy was, to everybody’s – especially himself – surprise the reason for that improvement. Not that their hole got magically bigger, better lit or Merlin forbid dryer, but even getting food that stayed on the plate and hadn’t rolled all over the dirty floor before consuming was an undeniable improvement. 

Mr Ollivander started to get ill after the… _little quarrel_ – no need to incriminate anybody, that kind of stuff didn’t go well if you were involuntarily sharing a 40 square foot flat without windows or keys to the door. The meal after, his shaking became obvious during their food delivery and Malfoy came back with a blanket for Mr Ollivander. Luna, who had, to absolutely no one’s surprise, started a friendship with the old wandmaker took it silently and wrapped the shaking man into it. Neither of them questioned Malfoy on his motives – you don’t look too closely at a gifted hippogriff – but even if they had tried, he wouldn’t have been able to tell them anyway. 

Dean bent down next to Ollivander, grabbing something ‘Look at this. Do you think Malfoy left this piece of parchment on purpose?’ 

‘Is anything said with it?’ 

They all had come long ago used to Luna’s strange way of asking most the times. 

‘Not that I could see.’ 

‘Ah, boy give that to me, idiot wizards wouldn’t see a cypher if it poked them with their wand, and you don’t even have yours.’ Griphook interjected. ‘It isn’t really parchment anyway. Feels more like tissue paper.’ 

Dean had started to ignore the taunting goblin ever since he noticed it was his way of coping with the boredom and the fear. The plain tissue paper kept them busy for two days until they were sure that it had ended up with them by mistake and didn’t contain any hidden message. Or, at least, no one could explain why they ended up with it and it was a much better explanation than Luna’s idea of a gift from who knows which spirit had taken her fancy this time. 

Griphook offered to shred it: ‘cause no one could know what harm it might do’. But Luna interjected by insisting that they would have enough dangers for them looming outside the door to start inviting them inside, took the paper and folded it into an owl. At least that was what Dean assumed it should represent. He never actually asked, he was busy anyway. Well not busy per se, but he had found a rusty nail when he had tried to make Mr Ollivanders bedding more comfortable and used it ever since as a drawing tool against the walls of their quarter. 

Not that he could really see what he was doing, but the act of creating, well something, was kind of soothing for him. At least this way he could imagine trees and a scrap of sky for himself. Sure, his artwork was more than lacking – you can do only so much with a rusty nail on sandstones – but at least it was something to do. After the excitement with the newly gained paper had settled, Griphook seemed to get more agitated by the minute until Dean offered him his nail. Grumbling about wizards who always kept everything to themselves, the goblin took the nail and sat back in his corner. 

They all had declared one corner their own and Dean dreaded the day another inmate was shoved into their habitat. There must come someone else at some point, mustn’t it? There was a war going on so there had to be more prisoners? They couldn’t kill them all, could they? Well if they would, they would start with present company, wouldn’t they? Dean had no idea why he was there anyway. He was a mudblood – probably – and unlike the others, wasn’t a tool or a bargain for something. 

So why hadn’t they got rid of him right after he was delivered to Malfoy Manor? 

Well, that train of thought would definitely not help him hold his shit together, so Dean decided to inquire Luna on her newest project. Ever since she got hold of the tissue paper and declared it safe to fold, she did exactly that. She folded an owl, sat it on the ground for a while, opened it up and started all over again. 

With literally nothing else to do Dean asked her the only thing he could think of, ‘What are you doing?’ 

‘Folding, I thought that was obvious.’ quipped Luna. 

‘Ahm, yeah sure, but why? I mean you could fold something else than an owl, couldn’t you? That might be more interesting than always doing the same thing. My grandfather showed me how to do a steamer, if you don’t know any other form. I’m not 100% sure how it worked anymore, but I could try!’ 

‘Sure, if you want. But I will stick with the owl. The fairies like them the best.’ 

‘Fairies? You know that we are deep underground, in a rotten damp hole far away from any trees, don’t you?’ 

Sometimes Dean found it hard to understand how Luna’s brain was working. Most of the times he thought her ideas and stories were some kind of code. A strange way of expressing herself, but on occasions like this, he was more than doubting his theory. 

‘Never heard of the mudfairies? They are the often-forgotten relatives of the common wood fairies. The mudfairies are living in the earth, mostly between tree roots but some of them travel with the time. You know how thick time is down here. They like that better than the fast and hectic time above the ground. That is how they came to live down in the earth to begin with. I just hope they accept my owls. They are always the same, but different – you know.’ 

This explanation didn’t explain anything to Dean at all, but hey, he wanted a distraction, so who was he to say this one wasn’t as good as any other. ‘As an offering for what Luna?’ 

‘As an offering for the count of cause.’ 

As he said – who was he to judge? ‘Sorry Luna, I have no idea what you’re talking about.’ 

‘It’s an old fairytale, excuse the word choice, my boy.’ Mr Ollivander chimed in ‘An old Japanese legend has it, that they who has folded a thousand cranes is granted a wish from the fairies. But I never actually heard that a fairy would prefer owls.’ 

‘Ah, the old Japanese got this tale from the itinerant Druids and changed it to fit their traditions. Those who know the origin know what’s really going on. If you offer the fairies a thousand owls, not cranes – what do cranes have to do with magic anyway – then you can meet your soulmate. No wishing, just a chance for a possibility. That’s how my parents met you know.’ 

Dean didn’t want to erase the pensive smile from Luna’s face, those became exceedingly rare down in their hole after a while. So, he took the paper and after trying to recreate his grandfather’s steamer and, after failing miserably, he started to fold an owl under Luna’s instructions.


	2. Chapter 2

‘Dean are you ready?’ Seamus's annoyed voice was only answered by a loud groan, coming from the bedroom. ‘Tell me you’re ready right now. I won’t let you skip another get-together. I fucking covered you the last three months, and honest to whatever the fuck you do or don’t believe in, if I don’t see you dressed – and I want to stress the word dressed here – arse of yours in front of this fucking fireplace in the next three minutes I’ll come through and get you. And believe me, that won’t be pretty for either of us.’ 

The answering silence was deafening. As advertised before, three minutes later a very pissed Irish was making his way through the living room. 

‘Merlins beard, what the fuck are you still doing in your bed? I expected you to be at least in the shower by now!’ 

‘I just don’t feel like going out tonight. Can’t you just go without me? I’ll come along next time, I promise!’ 

‘No, you won’t.’ Seamus’s voice was shaking a bit as he sat down on his best friends hideout for the past who really knows how long. ‘That’s exactly what you said last month, and the month before. You do realize that you need help, don’t you? It’s getting worse every time I’m here. You don’t even write to me anymore. I haven’t seen Freyja in so long, I’m not sure I would recognize her anymore. Where is the little monster-owl anyway?’ 

With every word from Seamus, Dean appeared to make himself smaller. 

Maybe he could get lost in his blankets and wouldn’t need to deal with his worried best friend. Seamus was too much to deal with on good days, but today was _far_ from a good day. Dean wasn’t even sure when he last had a good day or how that even felt. Maybe good days were just one of these childhood legends you grew out of? Like Santa Clause or the tooth fairy. 

Objectively speaking Dean knew that he wasn’t acting normal, but hey what did normal even mean? Maybe his normal was living in his darkened bedroom and not having the energy to leave it. Outside was only the outside – frighteningly large open places and too much sky. Ever since the snatchers killed Ted Tonks and caught the rest of them in a lonely forged moor – where the sky seemed to be an endless sea of nothingness – Dean had been wary about open spaces.  
But it had become worse over the years.

In the last few months, Dean had left his flat less and less until he couldn’t even bring himself to open the curtains anymore. The curtains! ‘Seamus don’t – please!’ 

Well wasn’t that a fruitless try? The blonde had left Dean’s side to throw open all the curtains, one window after the other and the loft-style flat had an awful lot of them.  
  
\---  
  
Tonight, was pub night again and Dean was nervous. He checked his outfit in the mirror of the hall, again, but he couldn’t help it. Realistically speaking, he knew that he needn’t be. He would go by floo and end up right in the private room of the Leaky Cauldron. So, there shouldn’t be any worry that something would trigger his agoraphobia but – there was always a but these days – today was especially bad. One look to his desk confirmed that without any room to argue. 

It was plastered with owls.

Not real owls, mind you – Freyja would kill him – but folded ones. The kind Luna taught him to do during their extended stay at Malfoy Manor. His therapist had told him to find something to do when the anxiety would start to take over. Something to calm him and focus his mind on. He had tried to do other origami forms and the result was a very nice art project. So, you won’t hear him complain but, in the end, when the anxiety threatened to overwhelm him, he came back to the owls. It felt like there was a special kind of magic intertwined in the act of folding them and man, had he needed the calm they brought him today. 

He hadn’t tried to go to a pub night since THAT night, when Seamus had stopped taking excuses and decided to do something instead. Dean had tried to argue, but that was a failed mission right from the start. His best friend knew he wasn’t coping at all and had made sure that he got the help he needed. Of course, not everything was suddenly butterflies and rainbows now, but it had become better, one little grain after another. Sure, he had a long way to go but still, today felt like a new start. He would meet with all his old mates and he would go because he _wanted_ to go.

Still, what if he became anxious and wanted to leave right away? What if his friends wanted to go outside to play quidditch? Well ok, that was highly unlikely on a rainy, cold, autumn pub night, but he couldn’t stop thinking of the what if. He wouldn’t want his friends to think he didn’t like them anymore or that they’d bore him or something like that. He noticed that his thoughts started spiralling – _again_ – so he tried to focus on something else.

When Dean had voiced his fears regarding the meet up to Seamus, he had given him the look. The look like in Seamus-best-friend-incredulously-TM-look. ‘You know that Ron starts panicking when he doesn’t see Harry and Hermione for longer than an hour. Ginny starts fighting every direct order someone tries to give her. Neville has the worst insomnia I’ve ever encountered, and I lived with Harry for a few months, who gets a panic attack every time he feels even the slightest headache. He seems to have lost every last bit of trust he ever had in anyone older than Ron and Hermione. Oh, and talking about Hermione; she has overtaken the Ministry in how many months again? I don’t think she took even one day off in the last three years including weekends and holidays. And you do remember the week George dosed her with puke pastilles, don’t you? So that she would take a day off? Well she didn’t, because then she couldn’t know what was happening at the Ministry. I don’t think that counts as a good coping mechanism either. Or do I need to remind you again why I will stick to soda tonight?’ 

Seamus needn’t. 

After the last incident, they had decided to team up in handling their unhealthy coping mechanisms and Seamus had announced that he wouldn’t drink till Dean felt ready to share a pint. And, even though Dean was ready to go tonight, he was far from feeling comfortable enough to drink something. 

Also, Dean and Seamus knew both that Seamus hadn’t stopped drinking because it felt wrong, doing it without his best friend but because it felt too good letting himself fall into the fog of drunkenness. Well, that and ending one time too many at St Mungos after flying a broom into a tree. Dean was still impressed with what perfect aim the Irishman could hit the trunk of the only tree around for miles when he was drunk. 

He should probably be thankful for that, due to this questionable talent Seamus never flew far when drunk. Not that he should fly at all, but Dean had learned to be thankful for the little things. With a last look in his mirror, Dean shook his head, no sense stalling any further. If he didn’t leave soon, Seamus would probably come to get him. With a last deep breath, he walked through the living room, took a pinch of floo powder and off he went.

Dean was pleasantly surprised, an hour into pub night and he still didn’t feel like fleeing the vanity immediately. Hermione had made it this time – a rarity that didn’t seem to have become more common in the month he had missed – and was telling him about her latest project. As much as Dean was into house-elf rights – ever since Dobby got them out of Malfoy Manor, he had more than a small soft spot for those creatures – he still couldn’t listen to an enthusiastic Hermione in lecture mode. Maybe a remnant from his teenage years? 

Anyway, while Hermione went on about social service in wizard society (when the hell had they landed on that topic, hadn’t she been talking about house-elves mere seconds ago?) he let his look roam the room. His friends were cluttered around the huge oak table littered with bottles, glasses and the inevitable plate of chips. They all seemed to be chatting happily. If you wouldn’t know any better, you could think them a typical group of friends in their early twenties.

Neville’s laugh made him flinch a bit. His friend had a very loud laugh, and he just noticed hadn’t heard it in much too long. A little smile played around Deans mouth and he looked heavy-hearted at him. Neville was sitting at the left corner of the table because he had come late. Somehow, he had managed to pick up Luna in Diagon Alley just a few hours after she had come back from her latest search for Godric knows what non-existing creature the monthly favourite was this time. 

To be fair, she had found her share of those supposedly imagined creatures, but still. Even though Luna wrote quite often, Dean hadn’t seen her more than a handful of times in the past years since the war. She was always on this expedition or on another. She’d once said the Nargles wanted her to be on the move, what Dean had understood was she couldn’t stay at a place for too long without getting restless. Probably her little farewell gift from the dungeons. They all had got one. 

As his thoughts started to spiral in the totally wrong direction – again, he shook his head and started to fold his napkin. When he left for the loo, a perfect little owl was sitting on his place.


	3. Chapter 3

_Dear Dean,_

_This is Stolas. You don’t know him yet, I just got him in Finland after Aeolus found he needed some time unemployed. You know how owls can be. I found him while we searched for the Northern Firefox. I wanted it found before releasing my book, you know. It’s a very dangerous creature and it’s very important to warn people appropriately, but so many just don’t believe us without being shown the being._

_I’m still thinking about a title for the book, but I haven’t found something more inspiring than ‘Fantastic beast and where to find them’. Maybe I’ll just use that! Honestly, I won’t be able to publish it, until the Ispiratiny are satisfied with it and yesterday they went crazy when I looked at the provisional illustrations._

_They all looked so very unchancy and I don’t think they were really happy with that. You know how many people think those creatures dangerous just because they can’t understand (or see) them. You know I loved all the lion banners you drew for the Gryffindor quidditch games. The lions never looked devious! Do you remember my lion head? The one that could row? I used one of your banners as a template. I guess I never asked for your permission for that, but I hope that was alright! I told everyone who asked, that I used you as inspiration. But I should have asked you beforehand. Can you forgive me?_

_Remembering that, are you working on a project at the moment? I can’t really remember. I had to catch up with all the friends I hadn’t spent that much time with before I left England, you know. But your drawings in our war-residence were amazing and I thought maybe you’d like to do the illustrations for my book? I know you’d be able to catch the essence of a Nargle. They always seemed to love being around you! Don’t think I would be surprised.  
I just couldn’t speak to you yesterday._

_It was impressive magic, transforming yourself into an origami owl before I could make my way over to you. Hopefully, you felt threatened by someone else other than me! I just felt that I had to take you home with me. I hope that was ok with you, even though you were gone in the morning. The Nargles around you seemed very distressed yesterday. You should probably try to calm them with some rosemary and lavender. I attached a bit of both to this letter, just in case._

_Love, Luna_

__

__

Saying Dean was surprised by the letter would be an understatement. No one besides Luna would ever consider their dungeon a residence. Or would explain not seeking one’s company directly, with spending so much time together while kidnapped and needing to catch up with your other friends first. Especially after travelling the world for a few years and not even turning up regularly for the holidays. And what was that about the owl magic? He couldn’t remember folding one, but that didn’t mean all that much nowadays. He was creating the little owls like crazy whenever he was nervous or distraught, and he had been _very_ nervous yesterday. 

But his owls were distinctly unmagical and most definitely not himself transformed into one. That was strange, Luna was normally very good at picking up on magic but who knew what was really going on in that head of hers? And this job offer? He wasn’t sure if he had it in himself to work already but as an illustrator, he could work from home. It seemed like a talk with his best friend was in order, and hell if that wouldn’t be fun. Seamus has started to inquire his love life the last few times they met up and if Dean wanted to talk about his not existing sex life (again) he could join an old housewives knitting circle.

‘No, I have no fucking clue what she means with the owl. Do I look like a Luna – English dictionary to you? Oh no, don’t even try to answer that one! Ever heard of a rhetorical question?’ Seamus was starting to inhale. Going from Deans perspective, that was not his smartest move. ‘Don’t even think about answering that! I showed you the letter so you could help me with deciding on the job offer, not to join in the momentary public infatuation with origami owls. If you find them so interesting ask Luna. She surely will show you how to do them.’ 

‘Are you quite done or should I wait for your next outburst, your highness?’ As appreciated as Seamus sarcasm was on a normal day, it didn’t help him now. But before Dean could work himself into another frizzy, Seamus continued, ‘What do you mean a public obsession with origami owls? What’s an origami?’ 

That was neither the reaction Dean had expected, nor the reaction he had hoped for. ‘What the hell do you mean what’s an origami? Origami is an old Japanese way of folding paper. It’s the style I’m doing my owls in. You know, the owls I’ve done since way before they started showing up everywhere?! And I wanted your help with a life-changing decision, not your criticism because my healthy coping mechanism started to overpower my unhealthy coping mechanisms! Remember the folded paper piece I made for Ron’s house warming party? That was way before origami owls started showing up everywhere!’ 

‘Calm down mate! I got it. It’s about the job, but I don’t understand the hassle. You’re going mad without anything to do. As you said yourself you made artwork, actually really great artwork for Ron of all people! RON! You know, the guy who asked Hermione if that was an accident when she showed him and Harry her favourite Jackson Pollock at the Tate. And before you say something else, consider that you made this amazing piece out of paper! Again, for Ron! The guy whose brother is George. And you didn’t even blink.’ 

Seamus threw his hands in the air, ‘I don’t know why we’re even talking about the job offer. You could work from home, whenever you feel up for it. Plus you don’t even have to join into a long going contract at the start, so you can see if it’s working for you, without a long-term commitment! So, as I said before, I don’t get why we’re still talking about it.’ 

‘I guess I should just stop thinking and just do it then and I will! I promise. It just feels like I missed so much, you know? So much ado about nothing! Well maybe not nothing, but really are origami owls going to pop up everywhere now? What the hell did I miss beside that? Spaceships, the Mayan calendar and a prophecy? I don’t know – this world seems so strange – I suddenly feel like I just don’t understand it anymore.’ 

‘I wouldn’t think too much about it. I think that’s called growing up. But what would I know about it? As you know I don’t understand adulthood. Speaking of things I don’t understand, what do you mean by your owls popping up everywhere? I only ever see them when I step into your bedroom and I tend to avoid that, ever since – well you know.’ 

Dean knew. The remembrance alone made him blush like a tomato – again. Well time to change the subject. ‘Ah well, Luna wrote me about the owl I apparently made back at the Leaky and when I met her at that cosy Café today to talk some specifics, they had one there too, sitting on a sill next to us. I don’t go out that much – as you know – though, I thought it was a new trend. And you really think I should do it?’ 

The silence following this statement was long, loud and really strange. What was said that was so shocking? Origami owls couldn’t be that kind of hot topic, could they? ‘The job offer, I meant to ask whether you thought I should take it.’ 

‘You met up, with Luna – today, after her letter, in a _Café_? Mate, you haven’t left the house spontaneously in months! I’m so proud of you! Come on, let’s get a pumpkin juice to celebrate this!’ 

Well, if he put it like that Seamus was right. A celebration was in order, even though he hadn’t even thought about it beforehand he had apparated from his flat for a meetup. But that might have been the biggest reason to celebrate anyway. 

‘I should probably owl her that I’m taking the offer. And schedule a date for the next discussion. Don’t you think?’


	4. Chapter 4

Wednesdays were horrible. Just thinking about it was horrible. And today WAS Wednesday! Most people would probably state, that Monday was the worst day of the week but on Mondays, the weekend was still fresh. It would linger in the back of your mind, refreshing your day with hope, like a mint after a long night of drinking. Then again, on Wednesday’s the last weekend was equally as far away as the next. It felt like the never-ending story of weekdays. 

Dean wouldn’t have been surprised if a white dragon with the childlike Empress would have shown up, but his British schoolmates might have been out of their depth if she’d had. He doubted anyone but him had any clue about German literature, except Hermione of course, but he’d known that thanks to his grandfather. He grew up speaking German and his grandfather read a lot of German tales to him and his sisters. He still wasn’t sure if inspiring him and his sisters to believe in being able to do almost everything with their imagination (no need to mention that Dean was the only magical child of the family) was the best idea his Grandpa ever had, but when he asked him that the only answer he got was ‘You should only create chaos where you won’t be held responsible for it, but still be close enough to watch the outcome.’ 

Dean still suspected that this slogan was much more responsible for a lot of his grandpa’s interactions with his grandchildren than anyone wanted to know. Especially after the New Years punch incident of 2000, but they all had vowed to never _ever_ mention that again. Never! How he could have ever ended up in Gryffindor seemed a bit strange considering, but hey, Harry hadn’t ended up in Slytherin either, so what the hell? Trying to rid himself of these kinds of thought, Dean shook his head. They wouldn’t help him while meeting Luna to finalise the last parts of his contract.

It would be his first contract after the war. Sure, he had sold some of his artworks – one of them to Ron without much thinking, if he was honest – but that was mostly spontaneous when his noodle supply threatened to end. Today was a Wednesday, but it was a special Wednesday – it was THE Wednesday. He was going to meet up with Luna to sign his contract. The address was written on the piece of paper he was holding in his hand.

Honestly, what could go wrong? 

Nothing much. 

Luna set up the meeting in a cosy muggle Café. Something about feng shi or feng shu well whatever, she said it was a muggle understanding about the magic around them and matching the interior accordingly. How that wasn’t triggering the International Security Status wasn’t really his problem, was it? 

‘As I said, Mat just didn’t catch their spirits, you know? Here look at this picture of a Nargle, it looks like a Flubberworm paired with a chimära. It should be more like a Flubberworm paired with a Pigmy Puff. But he thought this looked more dramatic. What’s more dramatic than a Flubberworm that looks entirely different but sweet with three heads and holding himself like a dancing troll? You know like the trolls on the carpet of Barnebas the Barmy? 

I loved the time we spent there with the DA. Do you remember when the air was full with all the Patronus? Can you still do yours? I never tried again since that day in Hogwarts. It never felt right again, you know. I wonder if it had changed?’ 

Well if that wasn’t a whole new can of worms for another day. 

‘Well, I think Mat didn’t catch the spirit of the animals, did he? And his drawing style looks very much like Japanese mangas. Do you want to keep that aesthetic?’ Dean was trying really hard to follow along with Luna’s conversation.

‘No, I don’t think so. Mat explained that it was necessary for the style to humanise the creatures a bit. I still state that the Crumple-Horned Snorkack does not have human breasts, he doesn’t even have a gender you know. No one knows how they procreate, but we think they use meiosis like amoebas. We just don’t know for sure yet.’ 

‘Where did you even find this guy?’ Dean was honestly flabbergasted ‘He doesn’t even have a clue about what he’s doing! Of course, the Crumple-Horned Snorkack doesn’t need breasts in the illustration if they don’t have any. That’s obviously how textbooks work, isn’t it?’ 

‘I guess, he probably thought that would sell better. He said muggle aesthetics would be very popular at the moment and as a pureblood, I’d have to be cautious otherwise no one would buy my book. You know I haven’t been here very often, and people were always strange to me, so I guess he’d know what he was talking about.’ 

Dean gaped at her. The dickhead thought of Luna as a possible pureblood purist? What an ignorant idiot! She was a _war hero_ after all. But who else would illustrate a scientific textbook for the next wizard generation to learn from? Probably a very small part of the next generation, considering how marketable the Crumple-Horned Snorkack was till this day. Even though Luna had found it. But maybe that would change, if it wasn’t drawn him with breasts? 

‘Probably for best that I am doing it now.’ was the only thing he could think to say. 

‘I wanted to ask you right from the start, you know? But first, an Anemoi attached themselves to you, and I don’t need to tell you, that it wasn’t one of the fluffy light ones. How could I ask you to do all this work while fighting that awful creature? I asked some friends around the world for their cures for Anemoi, but when I gathered them you stopped responding to my letters, so I thought you needed some space.’ 

‘Luna, I –’ 

‘Don’t worry Dean! Some people heal best without the reminder of their fear. That’s why Griphook never gets in touch but you would know that of course. I was just glad to see you last week. While we searched for the Northern Firefox we met a flock of Bowtruckles. They told me a tree without roots would break in the storms. I was afraid of coming back, you know. It just felt as Voldemort was only a bad dream while I was travelling. But a bad dream that lingered forever. So, I finally decided to come back. I’m just not that brave, so it took me a while to come round. I just knew I had to, but it took me a while. Daddy wasn’t happy with me being gone for so long. The Ispiratiny are so much busier ever since I came back. But how did you get rid of the Anemoi in the end? Did you use the mixture of polka dancing while making sugar figurines? That sounded like the most promising to me!’ 

Sugar figurines? Honestly, sometimes Dean was sure Luna edited things like that to her conversations just to discourage people to respond to whatever she’d said before. But Merlin, what should he say to that. 

He wasn’t the brave one for sure. Why had that hat ever put him into Gryffindor? Maybe Luna didn’t say those things to save herself a response from her counterpart, but to save her counterpart the response. Did that even make sense? He wasn’t sure, but it seemed plausible. Though everything seemed plausible if you were considering Luna. Maybe he could give her the contacts of his mind healer, she could definitely help Luna if she needed it. Then again, he remembered his reaction when Seamus had suggested it for the first time. He still needed to buy a new stool, the old one appeared to be past any _Reparo_ he could master. 

‘And there the people say I would be absent-minded.’ The chuckle was what pulled him out of his head. Since when did Luna chuckle? 

‘I’m sorry Luna, I was just thinking about what you just said.’ 

‘Don’t be sorry Dean. Thinking is a good thing, so many people appear to have cultivated an allergy against it.’ Luna seemed to be content to leave it like that and to let him slip back into his mind, but if he could leave his flat, he could offer some help to his friend, couldn’t he? 

‘I was just wondering…Well I don’t want to say you necessarily need it or anything, but you know, I have a therapist, and she helped me tremendously and I was wondering, if you might like to have her contact, just in case you feel like talking to someone a bit more – I don’t know, stable probably, considering our friends? Please don’t be angry with me!’ 

Luna’s eyes were fixed on him. Well, at least she wasn’t screaming or throwing things. That was definitely better than his reaction all those months ago, wasn’t it? 

‘You have a mind healer?’ Luna’s eyes were still fixed on him. Did she think him an idiot now? Or was she considering finding someone else for her illustrations? Well, there was nothing to do about that now. 

‘Yes, I do, she helped me so much, when I couldn’t handle it anymore. I didn’t stop writing to just you, you know, I stopped writing anyone, or speaking to anyone or leaving the flat – the bed to be honest. I’m still not really good, but I’m so much better and that is mainly because Seamus dragged me to her. And besides the normal therapy sessions, she has these drawing sessions. And you can go to group meetings, and to activities with other clients where you can bring family or friends with you and…’ He was babbling. Strange, that wasn’t something that happened to him very often. Or never to be precise. Well, must be the topic he guessed.  
‘That is so brave of you Dean! Yes, I think it would be good, if you could give me the contacts. I’m just not sure if I can do it in the end.’ 

‘Really? That’s perfectly fine Luna. You are so much better in receiving the idea than I was. And we could go to a drawing session as a start, only if you feel up for it of course. Well if you like, you don’t need to, I mean, I’d like to go with you, but please don’t feel obligated, I –’ 

‘No that sounds wonderful. I might get in contact with her, when you send the information. But I have to leave now. I have a meeting with one of the resident experts on Nargles in Great Britain. I’m so sorry I have to leave but I’m already late.’ 

When she got up, she hit her head on a shelf behind her and an origami owl fell down on her. Not a fashion trend his arse. Seamus would definitely hear about that. 

That sentence echoed through his head like something he had heard repeatedly a long time ago but Dean couldn’t for the life of him remember where.


	5. Chapter 5

‘I’m in my bedroom, come through!’ 

The picture before him when he entered Deans bedroom was most definitely not what Seamus had expected. When Frejya had reached him bringing a letter from Dean telling him to come over if he could manage, Seamus had feared that Dean had a relapse. Being asked to the bedroom when he entered the flat had felt like the confirmation that he’d find his best friend back in his bed, with all the curtains closed. 

It wouldn’t be the first time he had to drag Dean out of it, after all. But there was no bed to be seen – at all! The curtains were gone, as well as anything else inside the room, besides Dean who was holding a paintbrush and was drawing what appeared to be something like multi-coloured blotches on the wall.

‘Good, you’re here. I just couldn’t decide on a colour. What do you think?’ 

Seamus could only gape at his best friend. ‘Colour?’ 

‘Yes colour, what else? I narrowed it down to those five. You see, these two blues, that green, that cream and the grey over there.’ 

‘ – Colour for what?’ 

Dean was now looking at him as if he had lost his mind. ‘The walls? Are you ok, you seem quite distracted?’ 

‘Sure, sure, just you said I should come if I could manage, and then to come in here – you know what, forget it! So, you’ve decided to remodel your room?’ 

‘Obviously, if someone came in here and stole all my underpants, I would be worried about their sanity and probably Harry would be here to investigate an idiot burglar. So, what do you think? I was leaning to one of the blues.’ 

‘Yeah, sure blue is good I guess.’ 

‘Seamus are you all right? It sounds like you got hit by a flock of Nargles.’  
‘What are Nargles?’

‘Just one of Luna’s creatures.’ 

That was enough of an explanation for anyone who had met the blonde even once and Seamus didn’t continue to ask. He still hadn’t fully comprehended what was happening right before his eyes and a million questions seemed to pop in his head ‘Why are you colouring your walls?’ was what he settled on asking. 

‘The white walls felt just so clean, you know? It started to feel like a hospital room. Well not a hospital room, but it felt, – wrong? And yesterday in group session Luna talked about how starting to redo her garden with Neville had given her so much peace, so I thought why not remodelling my flat? I’m an artist. I shouldn’t settle for white walls. I could, of course, if I wanted to, but I never wanted white walls and always thought I’d do them one day but never did. Today is one day, so why not now? And I started with the bedroom, ‘cause I thought it would be good to visualise a new step at the place that was both my safe haven and prison of choice at once, by giving it a some more vital spirit. So, what colour do you think?’ 

‘Wait, wait, wait, what? Mate, you were in a group session? And Luna was there? You never go to those because you fear you’d meet someone you know and wouldn’t feel comfortable with sharing anything!?’ 

‘Well, I gave her the contacts and asked her to come. When we met up last week to talk about the project. I had the feeling it would help her. And mind you, she reacted so much better than I did when you suggested it. I thought she’d kill me, but she just smiled and thanked me for offering. She has probably been the smartest of us the whole time.’ 

‘Possible, at least she was a Ravenclaw but if I were you I wouldn’t say that out loud if Hermione was around. Just for safety reasons, you know. I like you with your head attached.’ 

Deans laugh startled Seamus. He hadn’t heard his best mate laugh that openly all that much in the last month. It felt like a bit of sunshine to him. 

‘Yellow! I’d go with the sunshine yellow over here.’ He pointed to one of the colours Dean had already eliminated. 

‘Don’t you think it might be a little bright to put up on a wall? I’ll probably get tired of it in a few months.’ 

‘And what if you do? Are you a wizard or what?’ 

‘You might be up to something there.’ Dean was laughing again. ‘Ok, let’s go with the sunshine yellow, but I’d like to do it by hand for the first time if you don’t mind. It’d mean a lot to me.’ 

‘Sure, give me a brush and I’ll help you if you like. But I recommend you get rid of all those colour blotches. They’d shine through the yellow I think, at least the stronger ones.’ 

‘Nah, let’s just paint around them and I’ll put a frame around every blotch. That’ll be art and I’m an artist!’ 

‘Art my arse. But whatever, let’s do this.’ 

The two of them worked for a while without speaking, just the wireless playing in the background. Some muggle station Dean seemed to like. Seamus couldn’t figure out why singing ‘it wasn’t me’ while telling how the singer had cheated on his girlfriend was making any sense, but the beat was good, he had to give Dean that. 

‘You know what this colour reminds me of?’ 

‘I have no idea Mr Artist. You may enlighten me.’ This normal banter with his best friend felt so good. Seamus felt like every smile or twitch with the eyebrow by Dean was taking a little bit of weight from him. Sure, they weren’t suddenly perfectly fine again, but recently the good days started to be more often than the bad ones. And that was the important thing. 

‘Earth to Seamus! Mr Artist is speaking to you.’ 

‘I’m sorry, I kind of got lost in my head. So, what did this bright yellow reminds you of?’ 

‘Lunas dress for Bill and Fleurs wedding. You know I helped her to pick it. And it had to be yellow. Something about good luck for the newlyweds, I think.’ 

‘Luna? The colour that you choose to paint your bedroom in, reminds you of a woman. And not just any woman but the slightly crazy woman you work for? That you went to a group session for?’ 

‘Seamus stop that. It’s not like that. First of all, might I remind you, that YOU chose this colour. Secondly, I didn’t go to a group session for her, I went for myself. I didn’t even know she’d really come. But my mindhealer thought that would be the next step for me. Trying to open up in front of others and that appeared to me like the best way to do it. I was horrified when she actually turned up and nearly said nothing at all. Not even my name. And last but not least, she’s not crazy and what has me working for her to do with anything? I’m just helping out a friend because her last illustrator was an idiot. He thought Crumple-Horned Snorkacks had to be drawn with breasts, even though they neither have genders nor breasts.’ 

‘Sure mate, tell that to yourself. Did you even listen to yourself? The Crumple-Horned Snorkack doesn’t have breasts? You’ve already spent too much time with Luna.’ Contrary to his harsh words, Seamus’ smile was contagious. His best friend might not know it yet and it might be too early for a relationship for him anyway, but did the idiot even notice, how often Luna came up in their conversations lately? 

‘Apropos spending time with Luna, when we met in that muggle Café again to speak about the illustrations an origami owl fell on her head when she was leaving. Right from the shelf above her. Even the muggles have them suddenly standing around, that must be a trend, as I told you!’ 

Not to laugh out loud right there and then was harder than Seamus had anticipated. ‘You keep saying that, but I haven’t seen one, except the ones you seem to create as a sport. And I was looking for them since you mentioned it!’ 

‘Well, you should look more carefully then. I saw a lot of them lately.’ 

‘I will, promise! Maybe one will magically appear at the next pub night that you can show me. You know it’s next week, don’t you?’ 

‘Yes, I know and I’d really like to go, what about you?’ 

‘I’d like to go as well.’ Seamus looked up at his friend ‘Do you think you’ll feel up to, –’ 

Dean's eyes turned down to the floor. ‘No, I don’t think so. Last month was the first time I managed to go again and I couldn’t stand to stay much longer than an hour. I think it will take longer than that for me to feel safe enough to drink.’ 

‘Take all the time you need, I’m really happy you want to go at all. Come on, let’s finish these walls! They won’t do it on their own if you don’t want to use magic for it. And what should remind you about the moon, if you don’t get the sun into your room.’ 

Laughing while Seamus dogged Dean's half-arsed attempts to hit him, the pair went back to colouring the walls in the brightest yellow their pallet had to offer.


	6. Chapter 6

Pub night turned out to be more of a game night this time. 

After Professor Sprout had mentioned to Neville how important a solid knowledge about muggle plants was for every horticulturist, he had joined a juniors gardening club. Even Dean, who was sure he had grown up as a muggle, had no idea what that could be but no one really cared. It was something about plants, how interesting could that be? 

What was interesting though, was the contact to muggles Neville had. Somehow, he always managed to find the funniest muggle things and, despite Dean and Hermione having muggle parents, even they didn’t know what some of the items were. 

Since a Squib sister of a Hogwarts Alumni had started to publish wizards history as a fantasy novel about Harry’s life, merchandise of it had become an endless resource of fun for the group. To be honest, it was mostly at Harry’s expense – he hated it – but well, he’d get over it.

But Neville had outdone himself this time. He had told them a few months ago about a game called Cards against Humanity his muggle friends had started to play very regularly. After Hemione’s inevitable lecture about the necessity of humanity – Dean thought she had stolen more than one line of her lecture from either Voltaire or Herder, but that was more his sisters field than his – Neville had unveiled that someone, who was most definitely not a Death Eater, had created a special version of the game called Cards against Muggles. 

Luna had commented this reveal by confiding to them ‘If I was a muggle, I’d probably be against muggles as well, I kind of like magic, you know?’ 

Dean had to fight really hard not to snort and lose the pumpkin juice he was drinking through his nose. Luna could be really funny, couldn’t she? 

Due to the fact that Harry had to run an urgent errand and was going to be thirty minutes late, they could start the game without much protest. 

Remembering Seamus’s rant before the last pub night, Dean watched Ron closely. And Seamus was probably right, Ron was fidgeting more with every minute. The look in his friend’s eyes when the door opened and Susanne Bones – the newest addition at the Leaky – came in to get the latest order and Ron realized it wasn’t Harry, was heartbreaking. 

They probably all wore as many scars on the inside as on the outside. 

‘Hey Ron, after Neville’s great introduction, why don’t you start us off with a black card and choosing?’ 

Ron turned his head, that was still fixed on the door and looked startled for a minute. ‘Ahhh – oh, yes sure, why not? Let’s see. Ok: _“Here,” Professor Lupin said to Harry, handing him blank. “Eat it. It’ll help.”_ Now you choose a card you feel would suit the blank and I choose what I think is the funniest, right?’ 

‘Exactly, and –‘ Neville was trying to explain some more but was interrupted by Hermione: ‘But I don’t have the right answer on my hand, that’s not fair. I only got strange cards!’

‘Hermione it’s not about the RIGHT answer. It’s a very ironic game fuelled by dark humour. It’s all about the funniest answer. So, choose a card you’d imagine Ron would think funny. ‘Cause he chooses the winner this round. And Ron, we will shuffle the answers before you read them out, so you choose not based on the person giving the card but based on the card. Any more questions? – Good, let the game begin!’ 

Cards were placed face down on the table and Ron started reading: ‘So, _“Here,” Professor Lupin said to Harry, handing him blank. “Eat it. It’ll help.”_ What did you come up with? One of you thought Lupin would give Harry _freshly cut grass_ , the next has _pornographic daydream charms_ on offer – really though? Too much information people.’ 

Luna started snickering at this point. Dean wasn’t sure why, because the daydream card was from him, but it was Luna, she’d hardly place a similar card, would she? 

‘ _Dean Thomas_ ,’ Ron calling his name startled him. 

‘Yes, sorry I got lost in my head. What’s up?’ 

Seamus next to him was starting to laugh so hard he nearly fell from his chair. ‘Mate, he didn’t call you out of your head, he was still reading answers. _“Here,” Professor Lupin said to Harry, handing him Dean Thomas. “Eat it. It’ll help.”_ Can you imagine?’ 

Dean could only stare at his friend. What the hell was going on. He was part of this game? Normally it was only Harry, sometimes Ron or Hermione. He narrowed his eyes at the deck of cards.

Well then, let the games begin. 

Ron decided on _some muggle device that vibrates_ as the best answer. Luna smiled and took the black card as a token of her victory. Who had thought? Even though Dean was wondering why the muggle inventing this game had gone for some muggle device that vibrates instead of a vibrator or did they actually mean an electric toothbrush? Well, that might have been a typical Luna answer after all. 

The next question Neville asked was _If it weren’t for blank, I wouldn’t have spent that time in Azkaban_. And it revealed a shocking amount of Gryffindor related answers, but Hermione won that round with _actually paying attention in History of Magic_ , and she was probably the only person in the world who would win a round with that particular answer. 

Dean still wasn’t sure if she was joking or not. Not about the having to serve time in Azkaban part – he knew she never spent time there – but about the _should_ have spent time in Azkaban part. Who actually knew what the golden trio – end of irony – had been up to, since breaking into the Ministry and Gringotts. Well – that answered that question, didn’t it? 

Seamus drew the next black card, and the look on his face was a bad sign if Dean had ever seen one. Seamus’s reading of ‘ _I saw you blank on the Marauders Map last night with blank_.’ didn’t really confirm Deans suspicion until he had a closer look on his cards, and holy shit, this would go downhill. 

Hermione won that round again – under heavy protest by Ron for putting pictures in his mind he never wanted to have. To be fair after her suggestion of ‘I saw you attempting to seduce Professor McGonagall on the Marauders Map last night with Snape in drag.’ It was really hard not to think about it. But she won that round by miles. 

‘It’s funny how the Ispiratiny put those pictures straight into your head after you thought about it once, isn’t it?’ Luna asked. 

‘It’s like the pink elephant.’ Dean had to agree. 

‘I’ve never heard of a pink elephant. Can only muggleborn see them? That would be very interesting for my book!’ 

Dean pressed his lips together to hold back a smile, ‘I’d love to tell you that that was it, but sadly it’s only a mind game muggles like to play. It ended up becoming a saying. The idea is, that if someone tells you NOT to think about a pink elephant, you’ll definitely start thinking about a pink elephant. Some say a pink elephant in a tutu, but it’s the same thing.’ 

‘That sounds so interesting. – Do you think _Pink Elephant_ would be a good name for my book? I’d like it if it would get stuck in peoples heads like Snape in drag. Don’t you?’ Luna’s eyes were shining very bright with the idea. 

‘I’m not sure a muggle mind game is the right inspiration for a magizoology textbook but if you would like that, we could make a wicked cover from it. I just don’t want to think about Snape in drag ever again.’ 

While finishing the sentence Dean noticed a small origami owl charm on Lunas bracelet. Well, Luna wasn’t a good candidate to prove to Seamus that origami owls were a fashion trend at the moment, but maybe he’d find another tonight to prove his point to his best friend. 

‘Well, Dean it’s your turn. Help to distract us from Snape in drag.’ Ron was calling through the room, even though he was fixating on the door again. Harrys thirty minutes were nearly up, and if Ron’s behaviour up to now was any indicator, it wouldn’t get better if Harry would be late. 

But Ron had a point. Even though Dean was trying not to think about pink elephants, ergo he was thinking about pink elephants, he couldn’t get the picture of Snape in drag trying to seduce McGonagall out of his head completely. 

‘OK, let’s see what the next card has to offer – I’m not sure this is any better, but let’s give it a try _Lucius Malfoy wanks to blank_.’ 

With announcing the new card a sound like a blue whale gasping for air could be heard from the door. Harry had just entered with a flabbergasted Draco Malfoy in tow and the blonde directly turned on his heels 

‘No way in hell! I’m leaving.’


	7. Chapter 7

‘Your flat is amazing! Did you do all those wall paintings by yourself?’ Dean was quite impressed by Luna’s decor. He had heard Harry, Ron and Hermione talking about the paintings in her childhood room once, but he’d never expected such a display of craftsmanship by the Ravenclaw. In hindsight, most of Hogwarts creatively talented students had been Ravenclaws. He just tended to forget, because somehow the house was solely linked to nerds, geeks and know-it-alls. He should probably know better with Hermione as one of his own house, but somehow prejudice wasn’t only linked to Slytherins, was it? 

‘Of course I did. My mum always said that a house isn’t truly yours until you left your spirit in it. And what better way than through a painting? My dad showed me how to do it, you know. We did this one together. He drew the little fox down there.’ She looked fondly at something Dean could have described as many things but fox certainly wasn’t on his list of first thoughts. 

‘You know, Daddy hasn’t gotten any better since the war. Sometimes it feels like I lost him a long time ago. I should spend more time with him, help chase the Wackspurts away but he has so many, I feel overwhelmed most of the time. I left him some Gudyroot for an infusion. It mostly helps with Gulping Plimpies but with a Wackspurt infection that bad, I thought it might help to cleanse his mind. He never was the same after our stay at the Malfoys. Did you know he even tried selling Harry, Ron and Hermione to Voldemort, to get me back? But I think that haunts me more than him.’ 

Dean was, as always, not sure what he should say to Luna’s openness. Was there even a right reaction to this situation? Hell, he had come to Lunas flat to work. The compliment was – even though it was honest – a bit of a distraction tactic on his part. Ever since Seamus had hinted about him and Luna being something much more pleasant than involuntary flatmates during a war, he couldn’t get rid of the thought. And that wasn’t helping his business demeanour at all. 

‘Have you thought about the creatures you’d like to supplement with an illustration?’ He had to get his thoughts back to business. That’s why he was there after all. 

‘Oh yes. I believe it’s best if the description of every creature would be complemented by an illustration. I know that will take you longer than planned but, as long as you don’t mind, I’d actually enjoy working with you for a bit longer. It feels like having a friend again.’ 

Luna’s words weren’t helping him at all. ‘I was always your friend, you know that, don’t you?’ 

‘Yeah, I know, and I’m grateful for that. I found friends are hard to find and so good to have. Even when wishing for something else. – You know I thought about the pink elephant you were talking about at pub night? I’d really like naming my book after it. _About Pink Elephants_ would be a great title, I think.’ 

The topic change made Dean wonder whether Luna could feel him being uncomfortable once again, but he was grateful for the change nevertheless. ‘Do you think people would get the metaphor of the pink elephant?’ 

‘No, I don’t think so. Most people aren’t very observant, are they? But I think they would buy the book anyway. Humans are strange like that. And I would like the title. It reminds me of our conversations.’ 

Once again Dean was at a loss for words. What did someone answer to statements like that?

‘As I said before, we could create a wicked board cover with that title. I have some great ideas for it, but I think you should do it yourself. Look at your walls, you’re more than capable to do the illustrations by yourself.’ 

‘No, walls are my specialty. I don’t do anything else. It just doesn’t feel right, you know?’ 

Dean didn’t know, but he had his favourite materials to work with for his art and Luna was probably talking about something like that. Just in one of her strange Luna ways he didn’t fully understand. Meaning he just nodded and hoped Luna would change the topic back to something he could follow.

‘So, you wouldn’t mind creating the cover as well?’ 

‘Of course not! I’d love to help you with it. I’ve created some first drafts for the illustrations if you wanna have a look on them. I’m quite happy with how they turned out. But I'd be happy as well to change everything I might have gotten wrong. I have a pair of Nargles, some Pigmy Puffs, a Flubberworm, two Hippogriffs, a Sphinx and a Thestral, just so you could get an idea of the style I was thinking of.’ 

Pulling out the sketches of his work and handing them to Luna, he kept one in his hand and chewed his lip nervously, ‘Also, I was thinking about the meiosis of the Crumple-Horned Snorchkack you mentioned the last time and I tried to draw it up. Of course, it’s only a hypothesis, and we should tag them accordingly, but I thought that could serve the understanding of the non-existing gender. I’ve you think it’s dumb I’ll get rid of them straight away; it was just a stupid idea really –’ 

Hell, he was babbling again. What was wrong with him? Why had he come ups with a version of the Crumple-Horned Snorchkack meiosis anyway? He wasn’t a magizoologist, he was only an illustrator. It wasn’t his task to come up with something like that, his task was, to fulfil Luna’s ideas and bring them to live. Embarrassed he shoved the sketch of the Crumple-Horned Snorchkack into her hands.

‘You look like you’re not feeling well? Would you like to take a break?’ 

Luna was more observant as he had thought once again. ‘No, no I’m fine. I’m just not sure these are what you were looking for. And I hoped to get them right because we’re friends and all.’

‘Yeah, – we are friends.’ Luna was smiling at him ‘But don’t worry, these drafts are exactly what I was looking for. You know, I like how you incorporated a little origami owl in every piece of your work. Is that your monogram?’ 

‘I did what?’ Dean was staring at Luna. What the actual fuck was she talking about? He took a closer look at the pieces and, to his distress, discovered that she was right. 

He had managed to incorporate a tiny little origami owl into each of his drawings. How the hell had that happened? It was most definitely not planned but he should probably not tell that his contractor, should he? It felt a bit unprofessional to include tiny pictures of something by accident. 

‘Yeah, it was just a strike of the muse and I thought I should probably go along with it.’ That was as close to the truth as it would get. And to be frank, no one really needed to know anyway.

‘Do you think you could draw a folding instruction for those owls? I was thinking to incorporate it in the book as an appendix for the chapter about the mudfairies.’ 

‘Why? But sure, I could definitely do that, I have a lot of practice drawing them at the moment.’ Dean couldn’t bite back the sarcastic remark, even though he wasn’t sure who he was sarcastic towards – Luna or himself. 

‘Because of the soulmate legend of course! Don’t you remember us talking about it with Mr Ollivander when I showed you how to fold them while staying at Malfoy Manor? I thought it would be a nice addition for the readers. Also, I do love how this Hippogriff looks a bit like the one in the papers when Sirius Black escaped. Don’t you think?’ 

He had taken the Hippogriff living in Harry, Ron and Hemiones backyard as a model for his drawing, but a Hippogriff was a Hippogriff, what did he know? He was most definitely not getting into a discussion about it with Luna. He knew from experience he couldn’t win if he tried. 

‘I took the one in Grimmauld Place as a model, but it might even be the same, who knows?’ 

‘Could be. With Sirius being Harry’s godfather and all.’ 

Dean had forgotten about that. It was sometimes hard to keep up with all the reveals after the war. 

‘Anyway, have you heard from Ron and Harry since the last pub night? Ginny told me Hermione had to apparate the two of them home, and Ron had refused to leave without his new teddy! I wonder where he found a teddy at the Leaky?’ 

Dean was staring at her. Had she forgotten who Harry had been drinking with when Ron followed them? But to be fair, no one would think about him as a teddy, would they?


	8. Chapter 8

‘Tell me again, why are we painting you living room walls now? By hand _again_ , might I add.’ Seamus seemed a bit annoyed, but Dean loved his friend for doing it anyway.

‘After we painted the bedroom yellow, the grey in here was so cold. I need something warmer and by painting it together by hand as you put it, it gets a bit warmer as well. You know how flawless these spells turn out if you do them right. But as every artist knows, the characteristic of life in a picture comes from all those little flawed brush strokes. . By painting the walls by hand, we put a bit of ourselves into it. If you know what I mean.’ 

‘Yeah not sure I can follow you on this, mate but you’re the artist and it’s your flat, so it’s your call.’ 

‘Thanks, I really appreciate it. And look at us! Being responsible adults, painting walls instead of hiding in bed or being excessive with anything and everything. Honestly, I’m not fine yet, but I’m better and that’s only thanks to you. I wouldn’t have made it this far without you. I’m sure of that. So, I guess what I want to say is thanks for everything.’ 

‘Don’t mention it, mate. You’d do the same for me. You probably did already and anyway, that’s enough feeling talk. Do you think I’m wearing this Donald Duck shirt because it’s fun? The brushes are no accessories and the walls won’t paint themselves! Ah well, they would, but you forbade it. So back to work _darling_.’ 

Seamus was smiling wide and gestured wildly with his brush. To really no one’s surprise, he got most of the colour in his hair, giving him the look of a blonde cow with orange spots. The picture his best friend was show casting was just too funny to Dean. 

‘You know, it’s Donald Duck but try putting some more spots on him, he might turn into Minnie Mouse.’ 

‘I’ll have you know that it takes more than a few spots to turn a duck into a mouse and if you don’t believe me, you might want to consult Professor McGonagall on it.’ 

Dean choked slightly ‘I can’t think about McGonagall for a few more months until I won’t have a picture of Snape in drag accompany that thought.’ 

‘Mate! Why did you do that to me? I just managed to suppress that image myself!’ 

‘I don’t know, it’s popping up in my head every now and then. Do you reckon Hermione would obliviate us if we ask nicely? It’s her fault, after all, she might as well repair what she destroyed.’

‘I don’t think that would go over to well, you know how touchy she is on obliviates since the incident with her parents.’ 

Shit, Dean had forgotten about that. How could he not have thought about that? He really was a horrible friend. Sure, he had been joking, but still, he should know better. Why did his friends even bother to put up with him? 

‘Dean, mate, relax. Everyone is fine, well as fine as we are at the moment. If we’d never joked about a topic one of us has a trauma on, we would turn into a very serious bunch. Don’t you think?’

‘Yeah probably, but I really don’t get why you put up with a wreck like me.’ Deans voice was shaking a bit, even though he had spoken very quietly. 

His best friend had to laugh about that quite a bit. ‘You remember the talk we had last month before pub night, don’t you? We are all wrecks. But I guess if we stick together, we could make quite an impressive ghost-pirate armada.’ 

‘You’re such an idiot Seamus!’ But against his will, Dean had to smile at that. His friend was probably right. ‘Luna told me Hermione had to apparate Ron and Harry home because they got shit-faced drunk at last week’s pub night. And you know what else she told me? It looks like Ron has straight on refused to leave the Leaky without his new _teddy_! I can’t remember ever seeing a teddy bear in the Leaky, but do you remember who the two of them were drinking with?’ 

‘You mean – NO WAY!’ 

‘Well I can’t be sure, but do you have a better explanation on who or what the teddy could have been?’ 

‘Even if I had, I wouldn’t want it. This is just gold! I mean think about them the next morning with Ron refusing to let him go throughout the night! We know how he can be when drunk! You remember the night Harry had to conjure a lilo next to the sofa after that Cannons game, because Ron wouldn’t let go of his wrist and no one was sober enough to move him?’ 

‘You mean the night you graciously thought having a shower before sleeping was a great idea and fell through the glass door, after slipping while turning around to leave again, _‘cause the water would be to wet_ ?’ 

‘Yeah, that might have been the night, but the Harry part was fun? And for the record, next time let Hermione or Luna do the healing, no matter how drunk they are, they’d probably do a better job than the idiots in St Mungos. They tried to heal my foot while there was still a bit of glass in it – dickheads!’ 

‘Oh I do remember, I was there and saw you crying over that little splinter, no need to remind me, I’ll savour the image forever.’ 

‘Mate, that’s not fair, that hurt terribly.’ ‘Bullshit, you were only drunk and your inhibitions were the first thing that left you that night, right before your dignity. So, you cried like a poor little baby because of a splinter! Do you think George could create a picture out of a memory? Would be great for your bachelor party!’ 

‘Ha ha, very funny. But talking about futuristic relationship milestones that reminds me; how is your work for Luna coming together?’ 

‘As I’ve probably said a thousand times already, we’re not like that. But I’ll just pretend you’re interested in my work. We decided – well to be honest, Luna decided – to name her book _About pink elephants_ , somehow I gave her that idea, but I’m not sure it’s a good one. I mean that doesn’t sound like a serious textbook, does it? Anyway, that’s her decision but she asked me to do some additional pictures with a folding instruction for the mudfairy chapter. You know, with the pattern for that origami owl, that’s so popular at the moment.’ 

‘No, it’s not. I still haven’t seen one, that isn’t one of your creations. But what has that owl to do with mudfairies anyway? Is that just one of those Luna things again?’ 

‘I think so, there seems to be an old Japanese legend that states if you fold one thousand cranes, the fairies would grant you a wish. At least, that’s what Mr Ollivander told us, when we were, – you know. But Luna says the Japanese would know the legend from itinerant Irish Druids and changed it a bit. So, the real version, going by Luna, would be about folded owls – don’t ask me why Irish Druids would know origami – as an offering for the mudfairies. If you’d manage to create a thousand perfect owls the mudfairies would let you meet your soulmate or something like that. It’s not about a wish, it’s about a possibility were Luna’s words, if I remember correctly. She should probably ask Molly to cross-stitch that on a pillow for her.’

‘Is that why you fold those owls like crazy? To meet the perfect lass? This would be the first time that owl obsession of yours would even make the slightest bit of sense.’ 

‘Come on Seamus, you know me better than that. I don’t believe in that whole soulmate bullshit. And even if, no way in hell origami owls and mudfairies would be involved. Don’t you think people would have mentioned it, if a dancing cohort of mudfairies had them introduced to their soulmate? I feel like that’s something people would talk about, if it was the case, don’t you think?’ 

‘And that’s why we will tell them Dean, isn’t it?’ Luna’s voice came from the fireplace. ‘I just wanted to ask if you were done with the folding instructions?’ 

‘Yeah sure, come through.’ Dean shook his head, he had totally forgotten about the meet up with Luna they had scheduled for today. ‘I hope you don’t mind us working in here. I forgot about the time, to be honest.’ 

Seamus shot Dean a look – the skeptical one with the raised eyebrow – his friend apparently hadn’t forgotten that Dean had said there was nothing on his schedule for today. 

‘No, not at all. I actually love how you’re doing it by hand, that gives the room so much more warmth!’ 

‘That exactly what our beloved artist said, when he made his best friend paint those walls without any magic! But because I’m such an amazing friend, I’ll get some tea for all of us while you two do the responsible adult working stuff.’ 

‘Thank you, Seamus, that’s really lovely of you.’ Luna was smiling brightly at Seamus and looking at the mess the painting process had turned the living room into. Dean quickly went to retrieve his sketches from the bedroom. 

‘You know, I don’t think the mudfairies would guide you with a dancing cohort to your soulmate. They are not the flashy types, like the woodfairies. So, I guess they would be much more subtle.’ 

Dean was quite pleased when Seamus chose that exact moment to turn up, with significant less paint on his Donald Duck shirt and the promised tea. What should he have said anyway? There was no sense in discussing something like that with Luna, after all. He was much too old or maybe had seen a war too many – he wasn’t sure – to still believe in happily ever afters or soulmates. 

What a stupid idea. 

When he filled Luna’s cup, something changed in his peripheral view. Looking up, Dean was confronted with Seamus’s Donald Duck shirt but instead of Donald Duck, it was now showing an origami owl. Just no one else seemed to notice it. What the hell was going on? 

Dean looked to Luna again who was writing on his sketches, _How to fold the way to your soulmate_.

Dean felt suddenly hot and cold at the same time. ‘OH FUCK NO – ’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As this was my first ever fanfic I'd love to hear your thoughts on it or leave me a Kudo if you are in a hurry. I totally get being late because one read for to long ;)


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